Hey. Kincaid here again. Josh is probably going to sleep through most of today. He was up for almost forty hours, splitting his time between organizing our assault teams and working with a group of new arrivals that came early. These guys are doing electrical work and installing solar panels and wind turbines. I don't know much about that kind of thing, but I promised Josh I'd leave the field and take over running the assault team management duties for today and maybe tomorrow if he needs it.
With that also comes blog duty. I don't know that I have much to add to all the recent goings-on. I want to be honest here, that's important. If we're going to build a future as a larger set of interconnected communities, we have to be straightforward about our differences of opinion. Especially when it comes to perspective.
A lot of people are still down about what happened with Louisville. I'm not holding grudges against the ones that came out of the situation alive, but I haven't lost any sleep over it either. I don't know if that's because there's something in me that's broken or just too many nights on the road trying to strangle the part of me that rebelled against the things I did. I don't wish any of them ill. I don't mourn the fallen.
Not because they made a choice. Some of them may not have been in their right minds, and some of them really did choose to come after us with clear heads. I don't blame them for that. I don't mourn because it was a thing that happened that I can't change. We can't change. They did a thing they knew could end badly for them. We acted to save ourselves from a potentially devastating disease.
I feel remorse, generally speaking. If I didn't then it's not likely I'd be here in the first place. Just not in this situation. Those folks got very unlucky and we did what we had to. I guess it's more accurate to say I feel bad that they died but I don't feel responsible.
Seeing people coming in from North Jackson with excitement in their eyes and profound determination to improve this place is a good reason not to feel so bad. It is to me, anyway. I watched those guys scamper around, modifying power lines and busting their asses to get things done. I simply can't feel guilt for actions that meant protecting that. I fired shots that day too. I watched people who had fought by our side die.
This morning, I heard two of the new arrivals discussing putting actual electric heat in one of the communal sleeping quarters. Something about an array of heavy batteries and ultra-efficient furnaces. Maybe not enough to make the place cozy since heat eats up volts like a starving hobo, but enough to keep people alive. I know people--mothers--who've lost babies to the cold. There will be a lot of children born here before very long.
I weigh that potential, the safety and well-being of those yet to come, against the failing health of people at the end of their rope. It's not even close.
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